


a story about love

by kateanderson



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 11:39:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11989041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kateanderson/pseuds/kateanderson





	a story about love

He thinks about it a lot. Of holding a dying Tessa in his arms as the crowd goes crazy and jumps to their feet. Of standing on the podium to receive their gold medals (always gold, because "the power of positive thinking, Scott"). Of after, this time the definite final farewell to Olympic ice.

He has a lot of practice with that goodbye. In Vancouver, jubilant and sleep deprived, acting like a crazy kid because that's all he was back then. A crazy, stupid young kid. In Sochi, not a kid anymore and trying to swallow the bitter taste of defeat and disappointment and worst of all, the feeling of betrayal. He and Tessa, together, in a single bed that might fall apart at any moment, clinging to each other, both trying to figure out what comes next.

In his case, what came next, was a bitter "breakup" with Tessa (does it really count if you weren't in a relationship and your recent ex was also hanging around and your soon to be girlfriend waiting in the wings? God, he was such a fuck up) and an attempt to convince himself he was happy even as his life seemed to spiral out of control around him.

So, he thinks about it and about how this time, it's going to be different.

*

Tessa is waiting for him, her head bent forward, dark hair sweeping down to the screen of her phone. It's a good thing she has a lot of practice with waiting because he is always, chronically, constantly late. He starts out with good intentions but then things happen and he realizes it's five minutes after the time he was supposed to leave and today won't be the day that he's miraculously on time. He slides into the booth across from her, takes a sip from the coffee she has already ordered for him and before he can even say a good morning, there's a waiter at the table, delivering two plates. Shit. How late was he? He mumbles a thank you to the waiter and Tessa does the same but she has still not even so much as looked at him.

"Sorry," he says, poking at the egg on his plate to release the yolk. "I lost my razor and then the elevator was out of order and then there was a guy with the most awesome dog on the stairs -" He sees the start of a smile pulling at her lips and he reaches across the table to put his hand on hers. "Thank you for ordering."

She finally puts her phone down and looks at him. "If I didn't, we would be here until noon and our flight is at 1:00."

His mom likes to joke that he'll be late for his own wedding but he certainly hopes that won't be true. Tessa might never speak to him again and that would make for an awkward marriage. The beauty of a wedding, he thinks, is that he'll have his brothers there to make sure he doesn't lose his tux or come across any stray dogs in need of petting.

Tessa picks up a piece of bacon with her fingers and crams it into her mouth while looking at him. He hates it when people eat food that isn't meant to be eaten with their fingers, with their fingers but she hates it when people are late, so now they're even. "Are you packed?" she asks, wiping her fingers off on the napkin and picking up a fork.

He thinks of his suitcase, still open on his bed, with one sweater in it. "Mostly."

"Did you remember the top that you're going to wear for the photos?"

It's still hanging in his closet, where she put it a week ago. "Yes."

He's trying not to think about how this is going to be their last high performance camp. The official unofficial start to the season. A chance to see everyone after summer spent training and the first chance to really hear about how they've made terrible life choices and should reevaluate their life's work.

"After we're done, I'm going home and getting my bags and then I'm coming over." Tessa says, as if she doesn't trust that he's mostly packed. Her things are probably all sitting by the door, colour co-ordinated and packed in the order of which she's going to need them.

He shrugs, drains the last of his coffee and says, "Cool."

*

After he has paid for breakfast, he makes a mad dash down the street and into the lobby of his building. There's a couple of elevator repair guys milling about, one stirring another sugar into his double-double and another on the phone. "The elevator fixed yet?" Scott asks the one with the coffee. "My girlfriend is coming over and she's gonna be pissed if she has to take the stairs."

"Nah, sorry, man." he replies. "We need to get another part."

"Shit." Scott says and then barrels up the stairs. That part wasn't a lie because Tessa is going to be pissed and she's going to be even more pissed if he really hasn't packed. He moves about his small apartment, tossing clothes and toiletries in the general direction of his bed.

Not even ten minutes later, he hears his door open and what sounds like an armful of things being dropped on the floor. "Scott!" Yep, she sounds pissed. There's heavy footsteps and then she appears in his doorway as he's in the middle of throwing another pair of shorts into his suitcase. "Did you warn the guys in the lobby about me?"

He stops and tries to carefully choose his next words. "I might have said my girlfriend was coming over."

She's in his room now and he can practically feel her shooting him death rays. "And you didn't say anything about me being crazy and pissed off?"

His eyes go wide and he puts his hands up, mostly in self defense. "No! Well, I might have said you'd be pissed if you had to take the stairs but I would never call you crazy!"

Tessa sighs and lets her shoulders fall. She sits down on the end of his bed. "I don't want to be that person, Scott. You know that."

He sits down beside her, a pair of boxers falling to the floor at their feet and leans over to bury his face in her neck. He kisses her, once, twice and then says, "I'm sorry I made you be that person." And he is, he is very sorry because he knows she's better than that and she deserves better than him but here she is.

*

In the airport, after he has schlepped all of their bags to the drop off point and been randomly selected for secondary screening through security, he collapses into a chair. Their flight is already boarding but he doesn't care, he just needs to sit for thirty seconds. Tessa has joined the line of passengers, both of their boarding passes and passports in hand. As she moves closer to the gate agent, she frantically beckons for him to join her. He does so, his legs moving reluctantly.

It's a full flight and to his dismay, he finds that there is another passenger in their row and despite her name being assigned to the middle seat, he gallantly offers Tessa the window seat and settles down between her and the impeccably dressed man now in the aisle seat. He's been on his phone since they boarded and he shows no signs of hanging up anytime soon.

"No, no," says the man on the phone. "I told you that it needed to be done yesterday!"

Scott's reasons for taking the middle seat were twofold. One, he was still trying to appease Tessa and two, his own feeling of inadequacy. He was certain that this was more Tessa's type, the well-dressed, very important man and he was constantly afraid of losing her even though they had been together for two years. Or twenty.

The flight passed in relative silence, Scott pondering both his impending entrance into the wonderful world of his thirties and how to make it obvious to the douchebag in the aisle seat that the girl beside him was taken. As the pilot announces that they were beginning their approach into Toronto, Scott slings his arm around her and says, a bit louder than necessary, "I can't wait to get settled into the hotel room, babe."

*

"You know he was gay, right?" Tessa says as they're waiting for their luggage.

Scott looks up from watching the still empty carousel going around and around. "Who?"

"The guy you were sitting beside. He was gay."

"Oh." The first bags appear on the belt and Scott steps forward, almost pushing a young child out of the way. He really needs to work on his gaydar. 

In the backseat of the taxi, speeding toward the hotel, Tessa closes her eyes for a moment and blindly reaches for his hand. "You need to trust us, Scott." she says. "Please."

He's quiet, feeling her hand holding his, and turns his head to look out the window, away from her. He lives in fear that everyday he's going to do something stupid and self-destruct everything that they've worked so hard for. Sometimes, when he thinks about her and the life that he wants, together, after the Olympics, he wants it so badly that he feels it threaten to close his throat, making it hard to breathe and tears prick at his eyes. "I do." he says finally.

"Then show it." she says. "Because I can't do this without you." With the word 'this' she gestures around them.

They have arrived at the hotel and as he stands beside her, surrounded by their luggage as the taxi speeds off, he swears to himself that he's going to be better.

*

It's three days later and everyone is tired. Hours of interviews and run-throughs and officials poking and prodding and wanting to know absolutely everything have taken their toll. After the proverbial bell has rung and class is dismissed, the skaters begin to disperse. Some are waiting on taxis, ready to head back home and others, like them, are booked into the hotel for a final night.

Scott's sitting in front of the window, peering down as another skater is whisked away. "Maybe we should have left now too." he says. He feels impatient, he wants to leave.

"We talked about this," Tessa says, her voice muffled by a pillow. "we agreed that it would be better to leave first thing in the morning. Plus, you wanted to travel on your birthday so that you could tell everyone it was your birthday and try to get free things."

Right, he had said that. He stands up, pushing the chair back to its place by the desk and joins her on the bed. He lays behind her - big spoon to little spoon and smiles as he feels her relax against him. "We did good this week." he murmurs into her ear a few minutes later but by then, she's already asleep.

When they awaken several hours later, it's dark and he's disoriented. "What time is it?" Tessa asks, rubbing her eyes.

He reaches for his phone and groans when he looks at the screen. "Just after 8:00."

They agree to order dinner in rather than change and go to the restaurant and he tips the porter who brings them their food. They eat on the bed and then Tessa stacks the dishes by the door and they laugh when, later, she has a few grains of rice stuck to her stomach. In the dark, he holds her to him, bare skin slick with sweat and she whispers, "Happy birthday, old man."

*

The morning is crazy and rushed and she blames him but it's his birthday; he's old and now he's allowed to be forgetful and not book them a taxi. "You're stuck with an old guy now, Tess." he says to her once they're on their way and then, to the cabbie, "It's my birthday."

"Good for you." the cabbie says. "You still pay the fare."

Beside him, Tessa collapses into a fit of giggles.

Soon they are in Ottawa and he's waiting for their luggage while she's in the washroom, staring at all the notifications he has for texts and messages wishing him a happy birthday. Is it possible to just reply to all with a thank you? He'll ask Tessa later.

The place that she has booked for them is very typically Tessa, he thinks, when they arrive but he has grown to appreciate her taste. When he tells the front desk clerk that it's his birthday, she offers him one of her cookies and slides a voucher for a free meal across the counter. "Aha!" he says, once they are safely in the elevator. "It has finally paid off!" When he told the flight attendant on the plane, all he got was a pat on the head.

"You're such a loser." Tessa says and pats him on the head.

"But I'm your loser."

"Yes," Tessa says, rolling her eyes. "my loser."

He knows she's feeling sentimental when her eyes well up as she reads the comments left on her latest post about their twenty years together. He's been thinking a lot about it too. He's thirty and he has spent twenty of those years with her. He can't even begin to find the words to express what that means to him.

That night, she takes him to dinner and they share a bottle of wine while she barely touches her food. Because they're both tipsy, she doesn't say anything when he takes her hand for the walk back to their hotel. She's really acting weird, he thinks, when she stops walking to kiss him.

Back in the room, he has shed his suit jacket and Tessa is prowling like a lion. Her heels are sitting by the door and her dress is so long that he's concerned she's going to trip. "Tess..." he says, using his voice that normally seems to calm her nervous energy. He's not sure what's going on but she's wound up. When she stops, it's because she's in front of him and getting down on one knee.

They've never done anything the "right" way, he thinks, so it makes perfect sense that now Tessa is the one proposing to him. He lets her talk, the room feels like it's spinning as she pours her heart out to him and then finally ends with, "Marry me?"

He kneels on the floor to join her, crushing her to his chest. "Of course." he whispers. He feels tears threatening and is almost thankful that she did for him because he'd been thinking about it sometimes and couldn't work out how he'd get through a proposal without stopping to blow his nose ten times. He kisses her and then again and then says, "Did you get me a ring?"

She shakes her head, laughing through her tears and stands up. "No," she says, going over to the mini fridge, "but I did get you a beer and --" She hands him the cold bottle and goes to her suitcase where she pulls out a small box. "your grandpa gave me a ring. Well, your mom did, after he left it to her."

He sets the bottle down and takes the box from her instead. Inside is a simple diamond ring on a gold band. With shaking hands, he picks it up and slides it onto her finger. She smiles at him, then looks down at her hand. "Here's to the next twenty years."


End file.
